Enough
by Grinning Purple Cheshire Cat
Summary: Everyone has their limit - Based on the movie - Please RR
1. How They Met

Disclaimer: If I owned Chris or Shawn, do you think I would have time to write this story? ;)  
  
*  
  
*  
  
*  
  
"So that's one cheddar melt with pickles and nothing else, correct?" Caitie smiled cheerfuly as she made her way back to the kitchen to relay the order to the cook. She was now twenty-two, working part-time as a waitress at a local diner to help pay for her college tuition. Her mom, who had been the only parent she had lived with; who she had ever really known, had died in a car accident four years ago, about a week after her high school graduation. Since then, she'd gone through at least thirty off- hand jobs, just trying to earn enough money to make a living until she could finally graduate from college and get a real job. Her friend, Brianne Hartman, also worked there, though she was already making a substantial income as an artist, selling her paintings and sculptures.  
  
Caitie handed the slip of paper she had scribbled the customer's order on to Kevin, the cook, then leaned back against the counter, taking a short break while the food was being prepared.  
  
"Only forty more minutes till our shift's over," Brianne joined her. "Busy night tonight, eh?"  
  
"Yeah, and I still have a paper I need to finish writing for class tomorrow..."  
  
"Oh, how is school going, by the way?"  
  
"Fine," Caitie shrugged. "I'm pulling off a strong B somehow."  
  
"I wish I could go to law school," Brianne sighed whistfully.  
  
"Ha! Why do you need school anyway? You already found your calling in art; no college could teach the skills you have."  
  
"Aw, thanks," she rubbed the back of her head embarassedly.  
  
The two girls looked up at the chiming of the bells above the entrance as the door opened and a man walked in. He was tall and rather handsom, with dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes. But the thing that caught Caitie's eye most was the single blood red rose he carried with him as he took a seat at one of th booths.  
  
"Your turn," Brianne called, walking rather quickly away. I still have to take care of table four..."  
  
Caitie rolled her eyes. She was so under-paid. Grabbing a pencil and her pad of order slips, she went out to the dining area to meet him. Putting on the cheerful smile required for her job, she spoke, "Hi, can I take your order?"  
  
"Oh," the man flashed a polite grin back at her. "I...I think I'll just have a bowl of the house soup and a cup of coffee."  
  
"Coming right up." She turned to leave, but the man quickly spoke up.  
  
"Uh...my name's Mark."  
  
"Oh...mine's Caitlyn," she pointed to her nametag. Again, she tried to walk away, but he seemed to be desparate to talk to her.  
  
"I...I'm a reporter for the local paper...Mark Webber...maybe you've heard of me?"  
  
"No, sorry, I don't read the paper much." And, ignoring the crestfallen expression on his face, she retreated back to the comfort of the kitchen.  
  
"Aww, isn't that sweet?"  
  
"Isn't what sweet?" she rounded on Brianne.  
  
"He likes you, Caitie."  
  
"Excuse me? Has the gas stove been leaking again?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "You know it's true. He asked you for your name, told you his, tried to start up a conversation...Caitie, he brought a rose."  
  
"You're crazy, Brianne. Who says that it's for me? For all I know, he's probably meeting someone here. And don't tell me to ask him," she cut off her friend who had opened her mouth to jump in. "I can see it now, 'Hello, that rose wouldn't happen to be for me, would it?' 'Er...no, actually it's for my fioncee who should be here any minute now.'" She smirked. "Besides, how could he like me? He doesn't even know me."  
  
"He's come here four days in a row, he's not wearing a wedding ring, and he's always had his eye on you..." Now that she mentioned it, he did look familiar. "Just go," Brianne motioned as Kevin placed the bowl of soup on a tray and slid it towards her. "Find out."  
  
Caitie sighed reluctantly and took the tray, taking to food out to Mark's table. "Here you go, one cup of soup and one cup of coffee," she sat them down in front of him. Glancing back at Brianne, who edged her on, she bit her tongue hestiantly. She couldn't believe she was doing this. "Um...may I ask...who is the rose for? Your girlfriend, or-"  
  
"Yeah...it's for you, actually," he smiled sheepishly.  
  
Caitie felt a warm, rosey tinge spreading over her cheeks.  
  
That's when the guy sittin gint he booth behind him turned around. "Why don't you tell her why you brought her a flower?"  
  
"I...excuse me?" Mark was clearly startled.  
  
"You know what I'm talking about."  
  
"No...No I don't..."  
  
"Come on, why don't you tell her about the bet you and your friend were discussing the other day? What was it for again? Two hundred, five hundred dollars?"  
  
"Hey, why don't you mind your own business!" he suddenly got defensive.  
  
Caitie felt her heart sinking. "Woah, wait, what's going on here?"  
  
The stranger hesitated for a moment, then answered, "This creep bet his friend that he could...well, that he could get you into bed before midnight tonight."  
  
She faltered for a second, her eyes jumping back and forth between the two guys, then shrugged indifferently. "So...what was it? Two hundred or five? I want to know what I'm worth."  
  
Mark glared contemptuously at the man before standing up and slamming a couple bills down on the table. "It was two hundred," he spat, grabbing his coat and slinging it over his shoulders. "But now that I know you...that's way too high."  
  
Caitie smiled wryly as he walked out of the diner. Oh, she was goin gto kill Brianne for putting her through all this. "My personality bites, doesn't it?" she called to his retreating form.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry," the second man apoligized. "I didn't mean to get involved in your business...I just didn't want to see you get hurt, either." And with that, he turned and started for the exit.  
  
Caitie shot an irritated look at her brown-haired friend who had watched the whole thing from behind the cash register before she gathered Mark's half-eaten dishes and took them to the sink.  
  
"What are you doing?!" Brianne shrieked.  
  
Caitie cocked an eyebrow. "Uh...I'm going back to work."  
  
"At a time like this?! Caitie, you should be chasing after him!"  
  
"After who? That other guy?" She looked at her incredulusly. "Oh, no, I'mnot listening to you again."  
  
"Caitie! He's perfect! He's cute, and sweet, and sensitive! He just saved you from making a big mistake, then said he didn't want to see you get hurt, and you're letting him just walk away?! It's no wonder why you haven't had a boyfriend since high school."  
  
"Oh sure, bring that up again," she muttered. Outside, the man could still be seen through the window, standing on the curb and watching the traffic go by, waiting to cross the street.  
  
"Go!" Brianne pushed her towards the door.  
  
Taking a deep breath, and making a silent vow to herself never to listen to Brianne again, she rushed out after him. "Wait!" SHe yelled, catching himbefore he started across the road.  
  
The blonde haired hunk turned around at her cry and waited for her to catch up to him.  
  
*Ths was a stupid move,* Caitie thought to herself. What was she going to say? Not being able to think of anything else, she started the same way Mark had. "Um...my name's Caitie."  
  
"I know," he replied.  
  
She stared at him blankly.  
  
"You...you really don't recognize me, do you?"  
  
"Um...should I?" She looked genuinely bewildered.  
  
He laughed and ran his fingers through his sandly blonde hair. He had bright ocean-blue eyes and the slight beginnings of a beard. "It's me...Tyler Connell...we went to high school together."  
  
Caitie's jaw hit the floor as she stared in disbelief. "Tyler Connel? THE Tyler Connel? The preppy over-achieving volunteer EMT varsity football player Tyler?"  
  
"Yeah, that would be me," he smiled guiltily.  
  
"Oh my God! I didn't realize it was you! How are you! You look different; I haven't seen you in nearly five years now. Are you still dating Val? How is she? Do you still live in Nova Scotia? What brings you to Manhattain?"  
  
"Woah, slow down. I'm fine, Val and I broke up a while back and as far as I know she's still living in Kingsport, thought we've kind of lost touch with eachother. As for me, my job as executive president of my office firm has me bouncing around all over the continant, which is why I'm here."  
  
"So...how long are you staying then?"  
  
"Hmm, I'm not sure, probably two or three weeks at least...Er...This may sound forward, but...would you like to go for a cup of coffee or something somewhere?"  
  
"Oh...well, my shifts almost over now, so sure, why not?"  
  
Tyler grinned and Caitie blushed.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
To Have and To Hold  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
One Year Later...  
  
Caitie found herself in Tyler's warm, strong arms as they danced together to their wedding song, "I Do" by Ninety-eight Degrees. It was her wedding day, and, as cheesy as it sounded, she could honestly say this had been the best day of her life. Her dress was perfect, the service had been perfect, the many pink and white flowers that decorated the small church were perfect, the reception was perfect, the cake was perfect, the dancing was perfect, Tyler was perfect...  
  
Indeed, everything was perfect.  
  
They were the perfect couple.  
  
What went wrong?  
  
*  
  
*  
  
*  
  
A/N: I know it's going kind of slow...but that's only cause it's an intro. All my intros usually aren't that exciting, but the story needs a beginning, so I must include them. Just read the second or third chapter before you completely write this off as being a waste of bandwith on Fanfiction.net, please. It will get better, I promise you, and those of you who have seen the movie know what I'm talking about. The other IAHB characters will be in this as well. So please R/R if you'd like me to continue. Thanks a bunch ^_^ 


	2. Our Happy Family

A/N: For those of you who complained about it being Caitie/Tyler, Caitie will most definately not be with Tyler at the end.  
  
*  
  
Several years had passed since their wedding. They lived in a brand new tudor-style house in Buffalo, New York. They had a beautiful young daughter named Lizzie. They were living quite well, as not only was Tyler rich since his parents had been, but also his executive job was bringing plenty more money. Indeed, they could buy just about anything they desired. They should be happy, right? And they were.  
  
Or so she thought.  
  
She was at home, alone; Tyler was working late at the office and Lizzie was playing in her room. They had just finished eating and Caitie was working on clearing the dining room table and putting the dishes in the dishwasher when it happened.  
  
Caitie looked up when she heard a low buzzing noise. She wasn't surprised to find Tyler's beeper vibrating on the kitchen counter where he had left it. He was paged quite often for work; it was nothing new. She tried to ignore it as she loaded the dishwasher with detergent. But...if it kept skittering around like that, it was going to end up falling on the floor. She might as well shut it off. She picked it up and casually glanced at the LCD as she turned the vibration off. A frown creased her forhead. 33? She had never seen that number before. She was about to disconcern it...but something about it tugged at the back of her mind until she couldn't take it anymore.  
  
She flipped open Tyler's cell phone, which he had also left on the counter, and pressed 33, then call. If it was one of his friends from the office, she would just tell them he would call them back when he got home and hang up. But her breath caught in her throat when a woman answered.  
  
"Hello, sweetie! Where are you? I thought you were coming at seven?"  
  
Caitie quickly found her tongue. "Who is this?"  
  
"I..." The person on the other end, who spoke with a rather suggestive French accent, faltered.  
  
"Why are you calling my husband?"  
  
"Oh my God! I'm sorry-"  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"I...I had no idea...I'm sorry...I better go."  
  
"No, you're not hanging up until you tell me what your name is or what the hell you're doing calling my husband!" She demanded.  
  
But the strange woman only said "I'm sorry" one last time, and the line went dead.  
  
Caitie couldn't believe this. No, no, there had to be a logical explaination for this. There HAD to be.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Lizzie was fast asleep by the time he got home. Caitie was in the livingroom, picking up her toys, when he approached her.  
  
"She paged you," she said, feeling his shadow fall over her.  
  
Tyler looked bewildered. "Who?"  
  
"Number thirty-three."  
  
His smile visibly faded.  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Who is she?"  
  
Tyler ran nervous fingers through his sandy blonde hair. "Look...Caitie...I'm sorry..."  
  
Those words were like a sharp knife twisting in her heart and looked away as she began sobbing.  
  
"No, no, please don't cry..." he knelt down beside her, pulling her into a strong hug. "I'm so sorry...it was a stupid thing to do, and now more than ever, I wish I hadn't. But I promise, it was only a one time thing, and if you don't want me to see her again, believe me, I won't."  
  
She looked at him incredulusly. "Of course I don't want you to see her again!"  
  
Tyler shrugged, like it was just that simple. "Okay. Done."  
  
Caitie couldn't believe this was happening. How could Tyler be cheating on her with some...some French slut? And how could he just apologize and say it wouldn't happen again and expect all to be instantly forgiven?! She rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Why, Tyler? I thought you were happy with me..."  
  
"Oh, I am, I am!" he quickly nodded. "I just...I just don't know what I was thinking at the time...I wasn't thinking..."  
  
Caitie hugged him back, burrying her face in his shoulder. She really wanted to fogive him, she didn't want to believe something like this could happen...  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
A week had passed since the incident. Tyler was gone on yet another business trip. Caitie wasn't sure whether to be suspicious or not. Should she be questioning his honesty now? Should she be wondering if he was really alone? He said he wouldn't see that French girl anymore, but what was the signifigance of the thirty-three? Did that mean there were thirty- three other women? Maybe more? Caitie's head felt like it was going to explode.  
  
This time Tyler had taken his cell phone and pager with him.  
  
He was due home tonight, after being gone for two days. She would just...casually ask him about it then. She began setting the table for dinner when a pair of headlights marked his arrival as his car, a red BMW 850i, pulled into the driveway.  
  
"Hi, honey," she greeted when he walked through the door.  
  
"Hey," he gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek, but she pushed him away disgustedly.  
  
"Chanel?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"You reek of her perfume."  
  
"I-"  
  
"Save it, dinner's ready." She turned away bitterly.  
  
Tyler hung his coat up. "Okay, so I went over there-"  
  
"You promised you wouldn't."  
  
"Okay, so I couldn't help myself, shoot me."  
  
"Believe me, I would if I could."  
  
"Well, isn't it better this way? No more sneaking around, or lying, or fake business trips...I can just say 'Okay, I'm going to Theresa's, be back around midnight,' and everything will be fine."  
  
"You mean you're not going to stop seeing her?!" Caitie couldn't believe they were having this conversation!  
  
"Stop?" Tyler laughed. "Why should I stop?" Caitie was speachless. "I mean, this is my house, I make all the money," he smirked. "So I set all the rules."  
  
"Are you saying that if you want to go off and sleep with some other woman, it's okay and I have no say in it?! Doesn't the fact that I work too, that I clean and take care of your perfect house, that I'm raising your DAUGHTER account for ANYTHING?!"  
  
Tyler snorted. "You call your pathetic little job at that diner work? Six or seven dollars an hour isn't a paycheck."  
  
"You know what? Enough is enough! I don't know what the hell your problem is, but this has got to stop! I love you, and I thought we were happy, but I'll be damned if I'm just supposed to stand here and take it!" She yelled defiantly at him. "I'm not a doormat, I'm your wife! You can't just do this to your wife! hear that? You can't do this to me!"  
  
She was silenced by the back of his hand.  
  
"What?" he asked, indifferently. "I can't hit you? Caitie, I can do anything. I told you, I make the money, I make the rules."  
  
"Well fine!" Caitie shouted back, clutching her stinging cheek. "Why don't you keep playing your stupid game, and keep making up your stupid rules! Why don't Lizzie and I just leave then-"  
  
"You can't just run away with Lizzie, she's my daughter, and I love her. And I love you too, Caitie. Look, ever since I was younger, it's no big secret I've always gotten what I wanted, you know that. I guess you could call me spoiled. Well, I still want you. And even if you pack up and leave, I won't rest until I have you back here. And believe me, you have no idea just how far I'd go. Okay?" He smiled cheerfully. "I already ate at Theresa's house, so I think I'll just head to bed early now. Goodnight!" And with that he turned and walked towards the bedroom.  
  
Caitie was nearly hopping with rage. WHAT RIGHT did he think he had to do this to his own WIFE?!  
  
One thing was for sure, though. Enough was enough.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
The next day, Tyler was gone again. he had left early in the morning, before anyone had woken up. Who knew where he went, but Caitie didn't care. She was tired of wondering and worrying about him, and besides, his absence would make her job a lot easier.  
  
She got up and got dressed, applying as much make-up as she could to hide the dark purple bruise on her left cheek.  
  
Waking up her four-year-old daughter, she drove her to school, then made her way to the police station to find out a bit of information.  
  
"Um...hello," she forced a smile as she walked up to the front desk.  
  
"Hello, how can I help you?" the police man politely replied.  
  
"I have a question...my...my friend, she has a husband who beats her up...how would she go about reporting that?"  
  
"Well," he answered, "all she would have to do is fill out a report against him, and if she shows us any marks or injuries on her person, we can go out and arrest him."  
  
"And what if he's rich, can he bail himself out?"  
  
"Erm...well, yeah, if he has the money, yes, he can post bail on himself."  
  
"So if my...friend goes out and gets him arrested and pisses him off, what's to stop him from posting bail and coming after her?"  
  
"Well, you could get a restraining order."  
  
"Oh, gee, a little piece of paper that says 'You can't come within ten feet of me?' And what does she do when he suddenly pops up at her house? Crumple it up and throw it at him?"  
  
"No, she would call us."  
  
Caitie chewed on her bottom lip, thoughtfully. This was not going the way she had hoped. "And what if there's a kid?"  
  
"There's a child involved?" The officer seemed surprised. "Well, if it can be proven that the husband is a threat to the child, then the mother would get sole custody. But if it can't, then that's a matter for the family court to decide."  
  
"Thank you," Caitie sighed disappointedly, walking out of the police station. The cops were of no help. But she wasn't going to let him walk all over her anymore. She would find a way out.  
  
*  
  
*  
  
A/N: See, it wasn't as lame as the first chapter sounded, was it? Please review if you'd like me to continue. 


End file.
